Pixie Dust and Hydrogen Part 4
|| Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Little did the students of Ever After High know what cruel portend was to fall upon their school-- nay, their entire world, from the Giants at Beanstalk High to the tiniest choir Munchkin at Emerald City Academy. Dr. West, formerly "The Wicked Witch," carefully stirred the basin of water before her with a long-nailed finger. Contrary to popular belief, witches could only melt once. And Dr. West had been intelligent enough to devise a spell to unmelt herself after she'd safely seeped through the grating in her fortress floor. Planning ahead paid, when you were a villain who wished to survive your tale. The basin rippled in the moonlight of her office, and then, once it settled-- a face appeared in the water. MirrorChat, she thought-- it was a good thing there was backwards compatibility for the program. Though her son, of course, could not use the Mirrors of old until after he'd melted, the Professor West found that she preferred them, if only to prove that she had mastered her weakness to water entirely. "Hello? Hello? Is this thing working?" Baba Yaga's eye looked up at her from the pool. "Wicked West, is that you?" "Baba Yaga," a smile spread across her green face. "I was hoping you would have a moment to chat tonight." "What matter did you wish to speak of, friend?" Baba Yaga sat back, appearing all-solemn. "I can't imagine you called to reminisce on old times." "As much as I'd love to talk about how we tormented our professors at school," Wicked West pursed her lips. "I am afraid we cannot. My scrying turned up some... alarming results. My calculations of magiphysical mathematics are in concurrence with this plausibility. I sent the results to Goodfairy; hopefully she'll have something conclusive on the matter by tomorrow. The foolish woman won't let me mention them in official context until the peer review... I swear, you follow your story like a good little villain and ever afterwards, everything you say is in doubt. Unquestionably, she'll get all of the credit for my discovery." "We did love to stir up mischief in the days of old," Baba Yaga sighed, as if yearning for that time. "But now we are the professors-- I can't help but think it's karma at work. Nonetheless! If you are unable to announce your discovery to me, then, what purpose is your call? I would be glad to complain of the how heavily the scholars of magic and science rely on Professor Goodfairy, except I am afraid her niece attends my school. You know she would eagerly take me to court over classroom bias against young Farrah." "You would deserve it," Wicked chuckled darkly. "Fifty-three! Fifty-three blackberry pies! Not even fairy magic can remove so much staining." "The title of class Valedictorian was rightfully mine," Baba Yaga sniffed. "She got what was coming to her. I almost wish you would tell me your findings just to spite her unsolicited orders." "Well," Wicked smirked, "She said I could not declare my findings officially. But it is a very urgent discovery, and perhaps it might... slip out of me, after a night of a little darkfairy-wine, while I happen to be speaking to an old friend in a purely casual, coincidental MirrorChat?" "Oh, you are wicked," Baba Yaga chuckled, shaking her finger at her. "I may be 'officially' reformed, but I can occasionally manage a little bout of nastiness," a chuckle before her tone became solemn again, "Listen well to these words, old friend, for it is not a short tale. Your students may need to know-- sooner than anticipated. Do not say I have not given you fair warning..." ----- There was a strange sense of foreboding that settled over the school that night. Maddie should have known-- she was an expert in all things strange. The only thing that she couldn't pinpoint about the matter was what variety of strange the feeling was indeed. Certainly not the Wonderlandiful, slightly-scary-but-ultimately-exciting "strange" that most folks around here seemed to ascribe to unusual events (though, in Maddie's opinion, this variety of strangeness was downright normal). Then, there was the kind of evil, dark strangeness that had come over their land numerous times before-- the Spring Fairest, the Dragon Games, the Epic Winter. Maddie lingered on that thought for a while, but ultimately decided that though the sensation was vaguely similar, it was in fact not the same (which, mind you, was a strangeness within itself). And so, when she met up with Raven Queen after her second lesson of the day-- General Wondering, a class that had been adapted for Wonderland students in EAH-- these were the first words to spill from the mouth of Madeline Hatter: "Is it just you, or has the right been moved two inches to the left, and the left been moved half a centimeter south?" "I think the saying is 'is it just me,' Maddie," Raven chuckled. "Oh, good, and here I was worrying that I was the only person who'd noticed it," Maddie beamed, and Raven didn't have the heart to clear up the misunderstanding. "Now that you mention it, something does feel a little off," Raven joked. "I think the school gossip mill might be running five or six times its normal speed." "Hmmm..." Maddie tapped her chin. "No, the feeling isn't so much 'Apple and Darling had a date yesterday and now the whole school is gossiping about it' strange, though it's not quite the sort of 'Evil Queen is on the loose and everyone should run for their lives' strange, either." Raven checked her MirrorPhone, "Well, if we're not in any kind of danger, we'd better get to class. The lesson in Fairy-Physics today is supposed to be majorly important-- half of our midterm, I think." Maddie could practically feel her hat whistling, "Oooh! That's right... class is at eleven o'clock. I've forgotten elevenses!" "Maybe Professor Giles will let you have tea during the lesson," Raven suggested, as the two of them hastened down the hall and into their Fairy-Physics class. If things had seemed strange outside of the classroom, Maddie thought, things were triple-strange inside the classroom. There was something in that room that wasn't quite exactly Ever After High. Still, she took her usual seat-- not that she was given to sitting in one particular place all the time, but this seat did seem to like her ever so much-- directly behind Raven, who sat next to Dexter, who sat in front of Cupid. Or, she mused, perhaps it was the other way around: Cupid who sat behind Dexter who sat next to Raven who sat in front of Maddie. Why, she realized, this meant she and Cupid were, indeed, sitting next to each other. And it was only good manners, when one was unable to restrain oneself from a delicious cup of tea, to share a cup or two with those around you. And one couldn't very well share tea with those around oneself without sharing tea with those around those around you! (An opinion that Maddie seemed exceedingly pleased that this particular narrator happened to share.) She began pouring steaming mugs for everyone in the classroom without a second thought, pulling forth from her hat a regular smorgasbord of scones and light biscuits. "Maddie!" Apple seemed visibly surprised at the mug that had been shoved into her hands. "Oh!" Raven seemed visibly surprised, but also pleased by the tea. She had long since learned to take such things in stride. "Um, thanks!" "Aw, gort," Dexter coughed, having failed to catch his cup as it came hurtling towards him, tea steaming from his hair. "Oh, my!" Farrah accepted the cup, and silently, as best as she could, spelled away as much of the spilled tea as possible. Humphrey Dumpty hid under his desk until the tea was at last poured, and only peered up when there was no chance of it falling on him. Alistair directed a faintly amused look at her, and gratefully took not one cup, but two, exchanging the tea with Maddie in a Wonderlandian form of etiquette that left him most pleasantly with his one cup. The new kid (West?) at least looked pleased enough to be included at all, and Ginger Breadhouse-- once she'd gotten over the shock of a surprise tea party-- graciously accepted her tea and even had a few boxes of cupcakes to contribute to the tea party. "I happened to be coming from Cooking Class-ic," she grinned, and Maddie beamed back. "They're just what we needed!" Maddie cheered, and handed over yet another cup to C.A. Cupid. "Wow... thank you. I'm confused, but thank you," Cupid smiled, and took a warm sip from the teacup. "What are you doing this for, Maddie?" "Everything feels a liiiiiiittle funny today," Maddie explained, gesticulating with her fingers. "Which is a big difference, you know, from how it usually feels much funnier! And as my dad says: 'there's nothing that can't be solved by a warm drink and biscuits!' Maybe we can get back to hextremely funny if we keep this up! Besides... it's elevenses!" "Elevenses?" Raven asked curiously. "Why, yes! Because you and me and the class makes ten people," Maddie nodded sagely. "Elevenses usually includes ten people?" A dubious tone. "Why, of course not, silly!" Maddie giggled, and turned to the door, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. "The Professor makes eleven!" Giles Grimm entered the room, then, five minutes late-- more worn and disorderly than he looked usually, as if something incredibly heavy had been lain across his shoulders. "Madeline Hatter?" he glanced down at her, perplexed. "Professor Giles!" she smiled, looking younger and brighter than ever. "You're just in time for morning tea!" "Well," he hesitated for a second. Then, accepted the cup. "Today's lesson is important, indeed. But I have known nothing of such import that it could not wait five minutes for tea. Do not tarry-- there is much ground I must cover today. More ground than we have ever before expected." The professor's unexpected solemnity was contagious, and it was only with a quiet murmur of chatting that they concluded their tea, despite Maddie's best assurances that morning tea need not be quiet to be short. Why, she herself had tea sixteen times a day, most occurrences of which scarcely a handful of moments! Indeed, in the five minutes Giles Grimm had given them, Maddie had taken tea thrice already. Her classmates were somewhat slower, and as the lights dimmed, Cupid-- the last to finish her tea-- quietly passed the empty teacup over to her neighbor. "Now, then," Giles Grimm cleared his throat. "Let me tell you a tale, students... one that strikes at the heart of Ever After High and its purpose here in this realm..." Once upon a time, before there were ever fairytales, before there were any living things, before even the dust of the worlds had come into being, there were the Elements. You will know of them from your Che-myth-stry courses, substances such as gold, dragon fire, Herculaneum. But particles of magical elements, as listed on the left of the Elemental Table, found that they did not agree with the particles on the right-- the non-magical elements as we know them. Within the infinitely dense, solitary point where all of these Elements existed at once, magical and non-magical elements made and unmade each other. It was for this reason that, though their source was rather like a location of infinite mass, the area they took up was so small as to be wholly nonexistent. But one day, the smallest particles of all-- Pixie Dust, of the magical elements, and Hydrogen, of the mundane-- decided that, rather than reduce each other to nothing, they would join into one being. And for their choice to form friendships instead of invent enemies, they were together able to free the magical and non-magical elements from their bound, and with a vast explosion, the seed of the universe came into being. "Professor Grimm," Ginger raised her hand when he gave pause. "Is that how the universe really came into being?" "It is, admittedly, a simplified version of the events," Giles Grimm agreed. "But a true version nonetheless." Farrah raised her hand. "I have an aunt who works at the Fairies' College... several years ago, she mentioned something like this. Something that was only a theory." "The brilliant Professor Goodfairy is indeed the source of much of this information," Giles nodded. "And in a paper published only last spring... scryings by the uppermost members of the magical community have proven it true. As the tale says..." The seed of the universe began to grow into a strong, formidable tree, spreading its branches throughout time and space. Each place where an Element made a differing choice, another branch sprouted off from the original one, ultimately creating another world parallel to the first one. A thousand branches grew, and then a million, and then more until they became uncountable ever after. And then, the choices of living beings, magical and mundane-made both-- these choices would create even new branches, running along beside each other, parallel in time. But, students, beware-- for like the boughs of a tree, these timelines can sicken or wither just as certainly as any other branch. They are as prone to illness and breakage and vulnerability as any tree we see upon the grounds we walk. And though the tree itself is immortal, yet to meet a universal storm that can cause it to fall entirely... so, too, for the survival of all, the branches that are contaminated with illness must be dropped that the rest of the tree may survive. Apple-- hesitantly, but hesitantly-- raised her hand. When Professor Grimm called on her, she still hesitated yet more before speaking: "I've... heard a version of this story before. It's in a big, old book in my home library." "I have been told that the tale survives somewhere in some of the most ancient libraries," Giles nodded solemnly. "And we are only just now re-discovering it, and finding where it is true." "The rest of the tale!" Panic overtook Apple's eyes as surely as realization. "Is it true, too?" "I am afraid it is thus," he spoke-- apologetic but certain. "Academia has re-discovered what had been done a thousand generations hence... the source of our fairytale legacy. The true purpose of the Storybook of Legends." For the world in which we live now grew sick and ill, having taken a fatal path. A great error had been made by one of your fairytale ancestors, though it is lost to history as to whom. The Queen of all the lands went to her friend, a great and wise sorceress of unforetold power and beauty. She knew not the source of this danger, only that her world would crumble to the ground, into nothingness, and that the branch of her timeline would come to a halt, nevermore to reach its nonexistent end. The wise sorceress knew that to save their world from crumbling away, to ensure any sort of a future at all would require a large, hefty sacrifice. She warned the Queen that it would be a cost paid in blood for generations to come. And the Queen agreed, with all of her heart, to ensure that there would be any future generations at all. She volunteered to be the first sacrifice, and the wise sorceress claimed her life, and her throne, and with them writ the first-ever story of Snow White-- but driven with remorse for having killed her dearest friend, she writ herself in as an usurper, a cruel and vain woman. An Evil Queen. "Professor Goodfairy spent many years trying to recreate the Library of Alexandria, lost many years ago," Giles Grimm shook his head. "We have taken this information directly from the original Spell of Sacrifice found within those long-lost tomes. Dozens of scholars have since seen it, and only through the runic translation work of Dr. West in the University of Oz have we been able to comprehend the contents of the scroll in its entirety. They and their colleagues are persuaded of its truth-- as are most of the faculty of Ever After." Raven's mouth fell open, "The compulsion spell. My mom always said it was a compulsion spell." "No mere compulsion spell has a pull so strong," Giles Grimm exhaled. "You will remember the equation for pseudogravitational binding from the class last week?" "Of course..." Humphrey Dumpty seemed to come across an epiphany, "By using the mass of the stories, and spinning them larger and larger throughout the generations, the force generated from such magical bonds would put the timeline back together again!" The puzzle pieces seemed to click together in Alistair's mind, "I have a question, professor." "Yes, Mr. Wonderland?" "If the Storybook tradition was the only thing keeping the timeline together back then," Alistair began. "Now that the Storybook is gone... what's holding our timeline together now?" Giles Grimm swallowed. He had braced himself for this question-- and now it was time to give his answer. "Nothing is holding it together, Alistair. Nothing anymore. Our world is falling apart as we speak." Terror struck the students' hearts before panic did-- the room fell silent. Raven pushed herself from her chair, "I have to see Headmaster Grimm." Maddie attempted to follow her friend, "Raven--" "I'm sorry, Maddie. You are my best friend," Raven stressed. "But I have to see Headmaster Grimm. And I have to do it alone." She swept from the room, leaving her classmates bereft. Maddie, with a little bit of a shudder, realized what that feeling of strangeness had been, that morning. It had not been the right shifting two inches left, nor the left shifting half a centimeter South. It had been the sensation of their entire world, all that ever was and all that ever would be, slowly sliding away from the heart of all realms, doomed to fall upon the ground like a dying branch-- kersplat! And so, in that Ravenless, somber classroom, Maddie did the only thing she could think of. "My dad says that tea makes everything feel better," Maddie solemnly pronounced. She began to pour steaming hot mugs of hale, hearty tea, encouraging her dormouse Earl Grey to deliver them. "And in the event it doesn't... at least a hot drink makes everything feel a teeny-tiny itty-bitty-bit less bad!" Everyone, this time, accepted the tea with little mirth, but even then could they take solace in the comfort so simple a consolation offered. Dexter quietly stared at his teacup and stirred, nodding at the others only in faint acknowledgement. Cupid quietly realized the reason why she had lost contact with her original home, for Ever After was falling away from the realms. Professor Giles Grimm gave all of them passes to skip their next class with the simple excuse of: teatime. ----- Headmaster Milton Grimm, in anticipation of his brother's third-period Fairy-Physics class, spent the morning pacing his office. There had been some attempt to complete paperwork-- at the very minimum, to write Professor Goodfairy and thank her for the access to her publications-- but the Headmaster had given that up roughly halfway through first period classes, unable to choke out more than a few sentences of gratitude. There was no tactful way, he discovered, to say "thank you for informing us about our impending doom, please enjoy this fruit basket before our world falls into nonexistence." He had already arranged for Ms. Trollsworth to order the good professor a fruit basket, and wondered if perhaps his letter would be easier to write if he didn't mention it. Instead, he'd spent the morning pacing, wondering which student it would be to first express outrage, determination, shock-- any of the above, really-- at their morning's lesson. Really, he thought, he should have expected Raven Queen. "Let her in, Ms. Trollsworth," the Headmaster sighed, absolutely dreading this conversation. "Headmaster Grimm, whatever it is you're trying to do with this... this class thing," Raven scowled her way in. "You've got to stop it, it's scaring my friends. If you're trying to make me feel bad for not signing the Storybook on Legacy Day, or whatever, then leave the rest of them out of it." Grimm took a deep breath to collect himself. "Miss Queen. As much as I wish it were merely an event of my own invention... my brother, Giles, was the one to deliver you the news we have been collecting these past several weeks. Baba Yaga will vouch for it, also. Though it is true that these reasons are part of why I was so adamant you sign the book... what is done is done, and it is too late to change what has already cone to pass. And there is no time to waste on regretting it." "Why didn't you say something before?" Raven furrowed her brow. "If I knew that this was what was going to happen if I didn't sign the Storybook of Legends, I would've signed it in a heartbeat. My friends are going to be wiped from existence, as if they never came into being at all... and nobody wants that for their friends." "I will admit... I have long ascribed to the theory that the Storybook of Legends and the rituals of fairytale-acting have been what has kept our world in balance all these long years," the Headmaster looked down upon her solemnly. "But, too, I knew that it was only that-- a theory. I will be frank with you on this matter, Raven Queen... if you can calm down and take a seat." "You mean... you'll tell me the truth if I just sit down?" Raven eyed the chair suspiciously. "I suppose I could also tell you the truth if you stand, but it is a long tale," Grimm frowned. "I will warn you that your feet are apt to blister if you stand-- particularly in what you young folk call shoes these days." "Fine," Raven sat reluctantly. "But I want answers. Why didn't you just tell me what would happen before, on Legacy Day?" "You must recall that this information is new, even among the foremost of magicians," the Headmaster explained, "I believed it as dangerous and foolish for you not to sign... but neither did I comprehend the full extent of these dangers that would come to pass. Until the Spell of Sacrifice was fully translated, it was the belief of the academic community that merely one fairytale would fall out of existence for our failures to follow the rituals... but we have found, thanks to you, that it is not so instantaneous as poofing out of being, and nor is the process so simple." "So I didn't sign the Storybook of Legends," Raven whispered. "And I doomed everything and everyone." "Do not ascribe yourself more importance than you are due, Miss Queen," the Headmaster tutted. "Indeed, if Apple White's claims are to be believed, you are the only student in decades to have signed the original, true Storybook of Legends... the one which had been lost in Wonderland, for some unfathomable reason. Our realm has been hanging upon a dubious precipice longer than anyone can imagine... and it was not the events of Legacy Day that triggered this downward spiral. You were not the first to go off-script, to intervene in stories where you do not belong." "My mother was," Raven furrowed her brows in understanding. "She was the one who first hid the Storybook, and prevented people from signing... she was the one who started stealing the roles of other villains. She was the one who cast the unwritten curse on Wonderland." "All those matters, I believe you shall find, have been largely resolved," Headmaster Grimm corrected. "But the break from tradition can never be wholly fixed... there may only be temporary grasps at futures that once were destinies that secured our realm's safety. I believed Giles, Baba Yaga, and I had achieved reasonable security by sequestering the Evil Queen in the Mirror Realm and replacing the Storybook of Legends with a near-identical artifice. A strong several generations of fairytale tradition, I believed, would make it as if nothing had ever happened." "... until I didn't sign the Storybook of Legends," Raven sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Is it... fixable? We can still get everyone to follow their fairytale destinies... right? Can't we still make that choice?" "The fairytales of old are gone. Irrevocably gone," Milton Grimm did his best not to show his despair. "There are no spell-written destinies any longer. They fell away just as soon as the heiress of Snow White's tale was woken not by a prince, but by a princess, when the script was re-written for damsels who do not distress, but rescue themselves. And there is no way to do what has been undone... save one." "Anything," Raven said immediately. "I would do anything to save my friends. To save our world and everyone in it." "It is peculiar you should use those same words, Raven Queen," he glanced at her aside. "Those words the Queen of the Realms of long ago used to entreat her friend-- the Wise Sorceress who became the first Evil Queen. Perhaps, by signing the true Storybook of Legends, it is her destiny of doing what must be done for the good of all that you have inherited, in lieu of the one of Evil she writ against her own nature." Raven recognized that acceptance for what it was. "I would be honored to be anything along the lines of a Wise Sorceress, just as long as I can do something to help." "Then listen closely," the Headmaster acquiesced. "Previously, before Legacy Day, there had been two schools of thought: the first, which I have explained to you, was by far the more popular. But my brother Giles, and Dr. Wicked West of Oz both ascribed to a different philosophy-- the idea of Loop Theory, that any paths traveled to a far enough extent shall eventually lead to the correct destination. In other words, the further we deviate from our stories, the more likely we are to bring our world back into balance and undo our grim fate." "That sounds like Wonderland logic," Raven winced. "Does that... work outside of Wonderland?" "It is not a matter of working or not; we no longer have a choice between the two theories," the Headmaster asserted. "It is impossible to go back to what we once knew-- gone is the Age of the Royals, however much our esteemed leaders may wish to believe otherwise. Our fate lies solely in the Rebels, now, who made the choice for all the land on Legacy Day last year. And you, Miss Queen, have ever been their leader." Raven took a deep breath. Wise Sorceress, she thought, and took comfort in the lack of 'Evil' in that title. Fairy Godmother, she hoped she had inherited even a smidge of that wisdom. "Is it possible for me to get my hands on a copy of the Spell of Sacrifice?" she asked. "Maybe... some record of the original, and a copy of the translation?" The Headmaster pulled a thick packet of papers from his desk. He called out, "Ms. Trollsworth, if you will, I require photocopies!" Ms. Trollsworth popped her head in, took the package, and saluted before squaring her shoulders to wrestle with the photocopier-- every office worker's absolute nightmare, regardless of which universe they resided in. She almost preferred it when she was asked to make dragon-egg omelets. "I'll see to it that those find their way to your dorm before curfew," Headmaster Grimm stood, and checked his watch. "We do not wish to cause widespread panic over this matter, Miss Queen... not until there is a better solution than merely sitting still and awaiting our dooms. I cannot expect you to keep altogether silent... but I advise discretion in the matter. I do not wish to see this in the MirrorBlogs until tomorrow morning, after Professor Goodfairy's address on the global news channel-- if that is not altogether impossible." Raven scrutinized her options, knowing full well the workings of EAH's rumor mills and the nine other students in her class. "We can try?" "I suppose that will have to suffice," Headmaster Grimm sighed. "Those who attended AP Fairy-Physics today shall be exempt from the rest of the school day. I highly suggest retrieving picnic lunches from the castleteria and finding a discreet place to spend the rest of the day." "That's... unexpectedly nice of you," Raven answered, almost disbelieving. "The fate of all the realms rest upon the shoulders of the students at this school," the Headmaster turned and faced his window. "Their education will mean very little if they perish before the year's end. Return to the Fairy-Physics classroom, Raven Queen, and hasten your friends to the castleteria early. I know better than to expect a secret to survive the lunch period." || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Category:Pixie Dust and Hydrogen Category:Fanfiction Category:Canon Character Fanfiction